Meeting in New York (USUK)
by thelostdoitsu
Summary: When the meeting ends, staying in an unfamiliar city is the least of England's worries as he discovers that America is no longer the angel he had raised. And when a mysterious street gang causes tragedy to strike, an unstable America has to choose between sacrificing his own country or his potential lover.
1. Chapter 1

_I just wrote this at like 3am I don't even know why but HERE_

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It was him.

England thought as he observed the American blabber about at the front of the room. He who always came up with the most irrational ways to solve problems. He who believed in everything unrealistic, what a child. He scoffed to himself and looked around the meeting room, eager to focus his senses on something else. But he could not, for some reason. Was it because of his loud voice that echoed around the room? ...No, it was never a problem for him to turn away and close up himself, but, recently, it was as if he wanted to pay attention. England sighed and looked at the stack of papers laying on the table in front of him. He had lot's planned for today in his busy schedule, he had no time for this, he thought. Reluctantly he looked at his watch, but felt a wave of relief flush over him when he realized the meeting would be over in just a few minutes. Glad, he looked up once again to catch the last few words America had to say before he left.

"And that dudes is why we need to listen to each other, specially to me! If you listen to me everything will be A-okay because I'm the hero! Then we can compromise other less important stuff! Hahaha!"

America laughed obnoxiously with a hand raised to the air. Then he looked at the time.

"Oh time's up, the hero has to get onto his duties!"

England groaned silently to himself. One more minute in here with him and his brain cells would deteriorate! He quickly stood up and looked around, most countries were leaving. _Another great accomplished meeting,_ he mumbled to himself and proceeded to grab his papers when suddenly that obnoxious laughter rung around the room again. England quickly turned to the direction it was coming from but to his surprise there was no one there. "W-what..!?" ...but I'm sure I heard..." He trailed off. Was it really just in his mind? England shook his head, trying to clear the memory. Was he hearing things now? That's it. He thought, he would be out to get some fresh air then return to work. England scooped up his files then walked out of the meeting room and out on the streets of New York City. He had been there quite some times but had never fully understood how to get around. The Englishman searched for a pub or cafe of some sort but the closest thing he could find was a starbucks. He sighed once more, being disappointed that pubs weren't as popular there, but he entered anyways. Once inside, he looked around where smells of freshly brewed coffee hit him and plenty of girls, blonde specially, were giggling and talking about their lives. England made his way to the front cashier and gave his best fake smile, for courtesy was always important. The young lady behind the counter smiled back and asked him for his order and name.

"Yes, I would like a chai tea please. My name? Oh, Arthur."

He then paid for his tea, thankful to have a few american dollars in his pocket from...where was it? Oh, _he_ gave it to him that's right...he could remember him saying something about how bills were no good for him once he got his new credit card. But why had he given them to him? He wasn't alone with him and not next to him either when it happened. It was right before the meeting, he could remember when that cheerful America walked over to him. He wasn't sure if it was a joke or just doing what he had to do but he had accepted the money. Well, after he questioned him several times of course. Did he- But his thoughts were scattered away when he heard the sound of his name.

"Arthur."

He looked up then smiled quickly as his drink was done. But his smile faded just as fast as he realized who had just called his name. It was him again!

"A-Ameri- I mean Alfred! What are you doing here!?" England looked directly at him and noticed he was wearing a starbucks apron. His eyes widened slightly. "Don't tell me you're-"

He was cut off by the already obvious answer. "Yeah, dude, I work here!"

England let a few seconds pass then replied back, "I did not know that..."

"Well now you know! Oh here!" America reached out his drink to him.

"Ah, um thanks..." England took the drink from his hands and looked down at it, unsure of what to say next. On the other hand, America had a mischievous smile.

"So, couldn't find a pub here in new york, huh? There are actually lots of 'em! But you didn't want to get lost did you?"

England quickly looked up at him, flushed a bit but with a slight glare.

"I-it's not that at all! I just...I just found this place near my hotel that's all!" His cheeks turned a slight pinkish colour as he began to lie to him once more. How did he predict that? Was he just too predictable?

"Haha! Sure, dude. Whatevs, I'm almost done with my shift anyways!"

England furrowed his eyebrows, not sure of what he was implying. But America continued still. "If you have nothing else to do, I can show you around or something you know. Haha, if an old man like you can keep up!"

England glared angrily at him. "I am NOT old, you idiot! And I would rather get lost than be ordered by you!"

America's eyes flashed a speck of disappointment and hurt but went back to his cheerful self in a few seconds with a grin.

"Just saying, have fun getting back to your hotel! Haha!"

England had just had enough of this American and he huffed and turned away, noticing that he was in public and didn't want to make a scene.

"Fine, so I shall." And England left without a word more, through the double doors and out to the city. _Stupid America, always trying to crosse for some reason! Hmph, like I need him anyways, it's not like I can't get around fine on my own! _England looked around the unfamiliar roads and started to walk aimlessly, with only his ego to guide him. After a few more minutes of walking around he realised that he had never been to that part of the city before, everything was new to him and he had no idea how to get back. _Dammit... _he thought as he looked up at the darkening sky. England sighed, it seems like everything was going wrong today, well, most of his days were like this anyways. The Englishman looked around trying to catch a glimpse of something familiar when he found himself entering a dark alley.


	2. Chapter 2

England had no idea how or when he got there but it felt as if the walls were closing in around him, enveloping him in a sheet of pure darkness. He nervously looked around, cursing under his breath for not paying attention where he was going. But he kept on walking, it's not like a dark alley was going to frighten him away, no, that would be childish of him! With every step, the night came closer and he heard strange howling noises from all around him. Must be the wind, he thought, to reassure himself. But..what was that other- England's thoughts got disrupted by loud yells and screams behind him, followed by a siren. He immediately looked back, frightened, to see four dark figures approaching him. His eyes widened and his brain yelled at him to run, but his legs were frozen. His breath quickened and the feeling of cold sweat ran down his palms as he stared at the figures with a pale face. The shadows moved towards him until he could see the four masked men standing before him. He then heard them murmur amongst themselves with a distinguishable American accent. Some nodded then one of them turned towards him with a dirty snarl.

"A richy boy, huh? What you doin' here? he spat out, chuckling with the rest.

A few seconds passed then England took a deep breath and straightened himself up and spoke back with all the confidence he had left.

"Ever heard of taking a stroll? Probably not, likes of you are too busy chasing their tails to figure out what's damn right in front of them."

The man glared at him then scoffed, but turned backed to his peers for confidence then smirked.

"British? Leave your pretty language back home, this is New York city, boy, watch your words." he snarled and laughed with the others.

England scoffed back, he was the one using the proper language after all!

"I can speak however I wish to. Now, if you may excuse me, you're wasting my time." he started to turn away but suddenly one of the men grabbed his arm firmly and tightly. England felt a pang of fear shake through him but he did his best to hide it and firmly struggled out of his grasp only to be pushed against the wall of the neighboring building. The man laughed,

"You ain't goin' nowhere, pretty boy. Gimme your wallet. Now!" he shook as the words struck him. There was only one option but, would he risk using his magic? Well, it was necessary he silently decided and he took a deep breath and started to concentrate.

"What's the matter? Going to cry?" the men kept on mocking him. But England knew how to get out of this, and chuckled to himself at the thought of the men being dumbfounded by his ways. And when he had just gotten the strength to perform the spell, a loud, metal clang ripped through the air and he quickly sprang open his eyes to see a tall, shadowy figure approaching them. But this shadow wasn't like the others, it had a sense of familiarity, England couldn't quite describe. It walked with a confident pace and seemed to be wearing a heavy jacket, there also seemed to be something sticking out from it's flawless hairstyle, something like a…..cowlick someone might put it. A small glare shone to the ground from the beams of the lamps on it's spectacles that lighted the path in front of it. England stared quietly, for this person was not any regular one, he concluded. There was just something that seemed oddly welcoming about them….like he could just walk up to them and...hug them for example. And sure enough, once the shadow became clear, England was right, the figure was very familiar to him and he cursed at himself mentally once he saw who it was. How embarrassing to think those thoughts, he didn't mean it that way at all! Or so he thought, as America glared at the man holding him from an escape route.

"I thought we made a deal here.." he started, using what he liked to call his "hero voice". America walked up to the man and to England's surprise he quickly let go of his arm with a snarl.

"Deals are for sissies...come on, time we left this place anyways." the man quickly concluded and started fleeing rapidly, with the others behind him. England stared in amazement but also in anger.

"What are you doing, idiot?! They're getting away!" he yelled at America.

"Chill out dude, I'm not gonna get involved with the IGC!

"The IG...what?"

"The gang!"

America secretly had never encountered them before, but he remembered a movie and what the hero had done, so this was similar wasn't it?

"They don't look much like a gang, they're a bunch of bloody wankers that's what!"

"Shh-! Them might hear us!"

Suddenly America took hold of England's arm and pulled him, running away from the alley.

"H-hey! I can walk just fine you know!" England felt a tang of irritation at the American, but at the same time, his cheeks glowed warm for reasons he could not describe.

"Ha! Sure you can, into the creepiest places that is!" laughed America back at him.

"It's not my fault, idiot!" England stuttered out with a sense of embarrassment. For he rarely got lost, well in his own place. He kept apace with America until he abruptly stopped, making England run into him.

"Ack! Bloody hell, America? Don't stop so su-" but he didn't get a chance to finish his scolding when he heard that obnoxious laughter again.

"Reeelax dude! We're here anyways!" America looked up at the bar's name with England's gaze following behind. He read it under his breath, The Pony...bar... He immediately turned to America with an unamused expression and a disapproving look.

"I am not going in there..."

America smirked, "And who said anything about going in? I was just showing you~ But if you want, we can~"

England quickly turned his gaze away. That's right, he didn't want to go anywhere with that idiot! But then why did he... England shook away his thoughts and turned back to America, trying to seem as serious as possible.

"I don't want to go, specially with you, now I'll be going to my hotel, farewell, America" he started to leave when he heard a voice call to him.

"And do you know the way back?"

England froze, obviously angry at himself for not knowing but even more embarrassed when that idiot had to point it out. He had no way of getting there, and on another note, it was pretty late. England sighed for there was no choice but to go with him. He reluctantly turned back but then something hit him. How had he known he was in that alley anyways!?

"Wait a minute...how did you even find me in the first place..?" He repeated. He noticed America slightly nervous, which was very much unlike him. But he quickly responded despite his look.

"Oh...I'll tell you if you come with me~" the American had a mischievous smile on his lips, knowing England would surely not turn back. And it was true. With a hesitant sigh, the Englishman walked back to him.

"Fine." was all he replied. And America stepped up and opened the door of the bar with a triumphant look back at England. Seeing this, he attempted a glare and walked into "The Pony" bar, with a snickering American behind him.


	3. Chapter 3

An extra long chapter for an extra long update gap

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The aroma of old liquor greeted them as they stepped inside of the establishment known as The Pony Bar. England in the lead, he wavered towards a bar stool not too far from the entrance, with an annoying companion behind him. He sat down and looked at him with a stern face of disapproval. But the American responded cheerfully to his surprise.

"Come on dude! At least make an effort to not appear so depressed!" He boasted.

England growled back, "This is my neutral face, idiot!" Sensing other eyes on him, he quickly resorted back to a quieter voice. "I hope that at least the drinks aren't as bad as the name..." He looked up to the bartender, a young woman, and immediately smiled as he spoke. "Hello miss, may I have stout ale please~"

America grumbled quietly to himself, seeing England smile so suddenly after. The barmaid nodded quickly with a small smile as she turned to the other country expectantly.

"I guess I'll just have a shot of bourbon then~" he said coolly with a large grin that made the girl giggle quietly. Now it was England's turn to sneak a glare at him, as he stiffened up. Meanwhile, the barmaid turned around to prepare them their drinks.

America turned to England with a smirk, "I thought the so called 'British Empire' would go a little bit heavier on the drinks, not so much as a plain ale."

England felt as if he could just punch the words out of the American's mouth as he replied with gritted teeth. "And I thought you could at least go one minute without having to hit on another lady, apparently you are just too desperate I see."

America tensed up as he laughed away his rising temper, "Oh please, you're just as desperate if not more, if you keep flirting like that! Or is it that you can't hold your liquor at all? Probably!"

The Brit was up to his boiling point with this nuisance and he kept raising his voice higher and higher as he argued, "I can hold my liquor better than you anyday you bloody excuse of an idiot! Here, you'll see, just wait!"

He angrily turned his back to him and huffed but lightened up when he saw the barmaid come with the drinks.

"Here you go, an ale and a shot of bourbon" she spoke as she set the glasses on the bar table in front of them.

"Thank you, love~" he flirtingly replied with a smile directly at her, which made her smile back happily. However, next to him, America smirked as he gripped the shot glass tightly with frustration, Yeah, thanks, but don't pay attention to him..." He sneaked a glance at her nametag and continued. "...Amelia, cause a fun chick like you should be hangin' out with a party guy like me~"

Amelia giggled again, but with a flirtier tone she leaned over the bar and replied, "Oh yeah? And what does this 'party guy' do on the weekends?"

America smirked again as he leaned even closer to her, ignoring England completely now. "Well why don't you find out? Party at my place, just for you~ Wait here for me to pick you up?"

Amelia laughed, "Woah there, don't get too carried away, we'll see. But, I'm betting you came here for this~" she pulled out a business card from her pocket with a name and number on it, but tucked it in her back pocket afterwards with a grin. "For if you plan on coming back~" America grinned back and winked as she turned around and left.

"And how's that for a flirt, huh England?" But the American turned around to an empty seat. "Eh...Arthur? ...Arthur?" He called out as he stood up from the bar stool, confused. Meanwhile, England was standing outside, alone, while it started to drizzle down on the pavement. _Idiot America, if he just wanted to hit on girls then he shouldn't have brought me along as a spectator! I'm better off on my own rather than following the wanker around! _He sighed and began to walk aimlessly when suddenly someone sprang out from the door of the bar.

"England!? ARTHUR!? ENGLAAAAAND!?" America desperately called out loudly, which just made England hurriedly turn back to him.

"Shut up! Why do you always have to be so bloody loud!?"

America quickly whipped around and ran up to him. "Don't do that again! You scared me! I was all alone!"

England scoffed and turned away, "It's not like you needed me anyways so-"

But he got cut off by America's voice, "Why did you leave? Not to mention I managed to get our drinks for free..."

"Hmph, why? Well as I said before you were clearly too busy trying to flirt your way in for that very purpose. I thought perhaps we could have a regular conversation for once, but I was wrong, I-"

Again, the American butted in, "...You weren't jealous, were you..?"

England opened his mouth to scold him for interrupting him, but said nothing as he analyzed those words he had just heard. _Jealous_? He thought. _No, that can't be! He can't be jealous, why would he be! America was just flirting with a girl, and he was..a guy after all! Why would he even assume that!_

"No! Of course not!" Then Englishman stepped back a bit into the shadows hoping America could see the flustered expression on his face and chuckled to make joke out of it. "Ha, jealous! I'm not seeking for attention like you all the time you know! How absurd, nonsense! That's just complete rubbish!"

America stared blankly back at him. "Just one 'no' would've done it...and why are you denying it so much. It's not that big of a deal if I'm a better flirter than you is it? Well you being a pervert maybe it is.."

"I am NOT a pervert you idiot! And-" _wait, this was just about the flirting? This isn't about... _England quickly silenced his thoughts, for he was getting more and more confused each second, these feelings were just too overwhelming as if he could just crawl into a dark hole and wish to disappear. "And...nevermind that, just tell me how to get back to my hotel and I'll be leaving. It's late, there's a meeting tomorrow morning as well, I hope you hadn't forgotten."

America's energy seemed to be gone and his usual childish charm had been whisked away for some reason. "Yeah...uh, it seems like the rain is getting heavier no? Or darker or something, maybe it's for the best if I go with you!" America quickly searched for something that would make his request not as direct. "...you know with age you can start to forget some things..." He laughed with a smile.

England growled and started walking away which just made the American's smile fade away and make him chase after him. "Hey! I was just kidding! Don't go!" He ran behind him and leaped to wrap his arms around England in a tight embrace.

"H-hey! What are you doing!? Let go!" The Brit's cheeks seemed to glow warmer as he struggles to lift the American off of himself, but America just held on tighter.

"If I let go you'll leave me! Or get lost or get in some weird situation like you always do!"

"What do you mean! I never do that I-!" England sighed for he figured there was no way this companion was going to leave him alone. And as much as he hated to admit it, with America hugging him, the cold rain didn't pour down on him as hard. But he quickly regretted those thoughts and pushed them away to the back of his mind where no one would be able to decipher them. He convinced himself those weren't his true feelings and continued to what he was about to say. "Very well then, I suppose if you really don't want to be alone that badly...I guess I'll let you come with me." He almost mumbled the last word out as he realized he was still holding onto him. The American smiled his usual smile and hugged him tighter. England stiffened and crossed his arms to show a slight disapproval, but didn't struggle out of his grasp. Was it because he was tired? That had to be it right? He thought again and again until he decided he couldn't think anymore and gave in. And with that, he almost didn't notice they had been standing together, in the pouring rain, for almost twenty minutes.


	4. Chapter 4

Short chapter for a short update gap

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What seemed a short time after, England finally gained back his senses and broke free from America's grasp to walk away. He mentally scolded himself for accepting his hug for he had to still be cross at him.

"Come on now, I still can't believe I have to wait for you, but since it can't be helped let's just get this over with as soon as possible." He called back, without bothering to turn around as he walked further away. America quickly followed him until he once again took the lead.

"Of course it can't be helped! This hero has to save you from all the troubles that lurk in the night!"

"I don't need to be saved! I'm fine!" England quickly replied, but he couldn't help but wonder why he was so eager to guide him. _Was he this way with others too? Yes, he couldn't possibly be that special...could he?_ Again, the confusion made his head hurt and he shook away those thoughts again, not realizing America was looking at him, studying him.

"Thinking of something?" America started, which whisked Englands attention to him.

"Eh! Nothing! Just...enjoying the silence!" He lied, for he had to be more careful. America shrugged and continued walking, however, he was still curious.

"We're almost there, just a few blocks more. Your hotel is in 32nd street right? You just have to follow the numbers, like a grid, it's easy!"

"It is, and how are you supposed to know if you're walking north or south and your subway system is confusing as well! You find it easy because you are accustomed to it."

"You're just being as stubborn as always!"

"Not at all! I was simply pointing out the flaws!"

"As if you don't have any flaws in your city!"

"Shut it!"

America sighed, how come all their conversations turned into arguments. It seemed that everything he said was against the other's mind. And without his notice, England thought the exact same thing, it was ironic really. At last, minutes later, they were walking along 32nd street where bright screens lit up the city's nightlife.

"Oh, there it is, just up ahead. That's my hotel." England pointed out

"See! I told you I would find it!"

"Heh, you never did say that though...but I guess you did help out a bit.."

America chuckled, for he knew that was as close as his friend was going to get to saying 'thank you' to him. And he made sure to lead him all the way to the entrance where he stopped as England reached for the door, but turned around.

"Uh, well this is it then.." England trailed off, not knowing what to say next. It was rare of him, and for some reason he was getting a bit shaky and embarrassed, was it? An eternity of awkward seconds passed. The American just stared up at him, as if expecting something else, which made England even more confused with himself. "G-good night, America. Don't be late for tomorrow's meeting too!" He stuttered out as fast as he could and immediately entered the hotel afterwards._ Dammit! The hell is wrong with me_! England's thoughts buzzed around him like a swarm of angry be_es.I'm probably just tired that's all. Yeah, I'll get some rest and in the morning...this will be all forgotten!_ He concluded as he took the stairs up to his room. America didn't even had time to respond as the Englishman was gone.

"Good night..?" America mumbled quietly to himself as he stood there, dumbfounded._ Man, England's been acting strange lately _he thought as he walked away from the hotel, back to his own apartment._ He acts like he hates me but...then why does he get so...flustered_? America chuckled at the thought of England being embarrassed by a simple hug_, this guy...he really is hopeless._.. A small smile formed on his lips the more he thought about him, but he didn't know why. America shrugged it off as he arrived at his home, but as much as he avoided thinking it, this feeling lingered around him as if it was some sort of spell.


	5. Chapter 5

A bright thread of golden sunlight flowed across the room, where a sleepy England awakened. He had almost no remembrance of the night before, even so, the memory and the feelings had long been buried under his subconscious memory in the sea of indecisiveness. The Brit quickly caught on his everyday schedule, and got ready for the morning meeting. After a nice cup of tea and some breakfast, he grabbed his suitcase and made his way out of the hotel, nothing seemed out of the norm. The country soon arrived at the embassy building, on time, for he had remembered that the city was just like a grid. He wasn't sure where he had heard that, but he found it quite useful to get around. Through a security system and many rooms after, England finally arrived at the conference area, where a few other countries were already there. Some talking like old friends, others arguing like old rivals, and some quiet in their seats, waiting for the conference to start. He looked around and found a vacant seat for himself then started to organize his plans and papers. It wasn't very noble or right to eavesdrop on others' conversations, but England did it anyways as he pretended to be busy arranging the documents. That's when he noticed something very odd, listening around the room there was one familiar voice missing. He was usually the first one who arrived that the meeting, the loudest, the one who sat at the very front, the one who was always laughing. That laugh...was absent. In the midst of the noisy wave of countries, he could always differentiate it from the rest, but that was not the case today. England looked all around the room and sure enough, America was missing.

"Huh..." he muttered to himself, "Very odd, but I do say it's none of my business now is it..." With that he reassured himself and looked back down at the papers he was holding when a sly voice sneaked up behind him.

"Now what is this very odd thing, Angleterre?" said the voice.

England kept organizing his papers and ignored the source of his unending irritability, for he knew better.

"Come on! You can tell me, can you not?" he voice pursued.

England mumbled something inaudibly under his breath then looked at the Frenchman, with a very unamused expression. "I can tell you, but I choose not to, is that a problem?"

"Oui, oui!" he exclaimed, obviously hypothesizing this was some kind of gossip . "It is not very nice to keep secrets after all" he sang.

"Well aren't you such a little rumouring butterfly, this is no secret and neither is it worth talking about. Now, if you'd excuse me, I have some business to attend to" England stood up as he said it.

"Oh? 'Business'?" The other country laughed, "_ohonhonhon,_ have fun Angleterre, it is this America, non?"

England almost stopped breathless in his tracks as he heard him but carried on, confused as to how he knew where he was going. Was it really obvious? Nevertheless he was going to America's apartment, where he was sure the other nation was still asleep, forgetting about the meeting. England made his way to the exit and out again to the streets of the noisy city. Retracing his steps back in his mind, he recalled where America's apartment was located and took the route. Sighing with a tang of annoyance that he had to come wake him, the Englishman walked on. However, this wasn't the only thing he was feeling, deep inside him there was something else, excitement perhaps? A feeling one could have similar to when he was a small child, receiving a birthday present. A mess of bubbling intensity, although very subtle for England to take notice of it. After what seemed like a long hike, the Brit arrived at the building where America's apartment was situated. He looked at the address in his memory, then back at it to confirm, it was the right one. He then went up to the door and buzzed, only to receive no answer. Even more annoyed now, he tried again. Still, no reply. After contemplating in his thoughts of why he decided to come for America in the first place, England gave up and angrily started to make his way back to the embassy, where he was sure the meeting already started. But something lying on the side of the building caught his eye. Something large, too large to be some kind of animal, but large as a body. A person lay on the side of the brick structure, it had on a heavy coat England could immediately recognize. He stood frozen, staring at the image, but couldn't stop his curiosity as he started to walk towards it, his legs moving in their own will. England could now see the person's features closely, and they bore a great resemblance to one very familiar. Although, he had no sense of relief as he inspected the person. A cracking sound brought his attention to the ground as he could see broken glass scattered about. A soft groan brought his attention back and he could see, his arm bent off at an odd angle, his hair matted and dirtied. His face, stained with once deep crimson now dried and crusty on his nose and lips. A dark circle ran round across one of his eyes, with a sickly black almost purple color. All this, England couldn't take in at once, he tried turning away but found himself frozen once again. All he could do was move his lips as he forced himself to speak though it came out as a quivering whisper. "A-America…." To his extreme surprise, the words had an immediate reaction from the person. The figure grunted, but didn't move, for it seemed he had learnt from past attempts, it was no use. Then, he opened his eyes, though not fully, he met England's gaze. This made the Brit tense up, but as he saw the bright blue, heavenly sky inside them, he felt a sense of serenity and peace, a bond which gave him hope. Weakly, America tried to talk through a half broken smile, barely a whisper, he greeted England as if everything was normal. A simple,

"Hey…"

England stood speechless in front of the terrible sight, a flashback zoomed into his mind for this was a sight of great resemblance to a wounded soldier. With gentle air, he crouched down only to bombard America with a long series of questions. What had happened? How long was he there? Why was he injured? Who had injured him? These and many more poured out of the brit's mouth and over America, seeming clearly overwhelmed. He didn't even get a chance to speak.

"What in the name of the Lord happened!? Why are you wounded like this!?"

The American looked dully at him and answered for the first time, a weak response, "I...I can tell you later...just...please help me up now"

England had never seen such a sight, a vulnerable America asking for his own help, it was shocking to him. But of course he was eager to fulfill his request, it gave him a sense of worth and value that was once taken away from him, long lost.

"Yes, of course, how careless of me," England said as he carefully helped America to his feet. "I'll call an ambulance as well!"

"No!" America raised his voice with a clear intent. "I'm...fine, just please take me to my apartment."

Again, England was confused and worried, for this behavior was not like him at all. Although he figured he might still be unstable so he let it slip and agreed. "Alright...let's go then" the brit started walking ahead to the entrance of the building, he looked back to see America looking down, without moving. "...America..?"

But America didn't respond, he was in a world of his own; a dark, empty world he had never seen before, or ever wish to see. But he knew, it would only get darker as the shadows grew upon him, large, powerful shadows. And he would have no say in his fate, it would turn into a game, his safety on a tightrope. A very dangerous game. As he pondered the weight of life seemed to grow heavier upon him, the sun faded and the gentle breeze wisped away. His head spun round and round in circles until he couldn't bear it any longer and collapsed, unconscious on the ground. He could have barely catched a shout of pure agony calling his name for it seemed to be miles away.


	6. Chapter 6

Okay this was originally supposed to be a short lovely dovely sweet fluff story but...my inner satan emerged so...be prepared for some feels because I have no mercy when I write these things. Also I made some alterations on past chapters so it's a good idea to look back on those, they're just minor differences though.

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The dull grey color of the hospital's curtains greeted America as he slowly blinked open his hazy eyes. The deafening sound of silence pierced his ears as he regained consciousness, for there seemed not to be a single soul in the room. He grunted as he struggled to sit up only to be brought back down by a sharp pain deriving from his broken arm. As if that single movement had announced his revival, he saw nurses come in immediately afterwards, cooing sweetly, trying to calm him down. If he had not been injured he would've gotten up despite of their directions, but his body felt drained of its strength and he had no choice but to stay there.

"What….happened…?" America found himself asking them, in a quiet, raspy voice; when he heard the door open one more time, but this was no nurse.

"I could ask the same thing back to you" England said, his face torn between anger and pity as he made his way to the side of the hospital bed, making the nurses flock out of the room the same manner as them came in. America lifted up his head just enough so he could see where the familiar voice was coming from.

"Oh it's you…" he mumbled.

"Don't say it so casually, I thought you bloody died for a second!"

"Haha, the hero can never die!" America replied back, with some of his energy returning with his regular self. He smiled slightly at England but it was not returned. The Englishman simply huffed in disapproval and crossed his arms.

"You've got to stop treating everything as if it's a bloody film! Be responsible for yourself for once!" he scolded.

A moment of cold silence passed before America mumbled out a response, "Yeah….yeah...I guess so…."

England blinked in surprise, for he was expecting America to argue back. Only then did he realise it was better just to calm him down, he came to the conclusion that he would try to be nicer to him for the time being.

"...If it's in your convenience...would you mind telling me what happened?" England asked in a quiet voice, trying not to spark another argument. America hesitated, turning his head away from him like a child would do when told to tell the truth. England saw this with pity and carefully rested a hand on America's shoulder to reassure him. "Come on now, I haven't got all day" he said jokingly, a rare smile forming on his lips.

America took this as a sign of trustworthiness and turned his head back to him and looked into his eyes. The green emeralds brought back an old memory, a reminiscence of his young self, that sung sweetly to him and calmed him down, but he quickly looked elsewhere and the spell was sent into oblivion. "It has nothing to do with you…" he began. "It was just a stupid street fight, nothing more. It got more intense that I had imagined, but hey the more views on YouTube." America dismissed the question and turned his head away from England again, avoiding eye contact.

Clearly, England was more alarmed, "Are you mad?! Why the hell were you in a street fight? Don't you have more dignity than that? I thought I taught you better than that so as to-"

America interrupted him and angrily turned back to him, speaking through gritted teeth, "England, could you just...shut up for a second?"

England was taken aback by his comment, mortified since he could see that his sky blue eyes were replaced by a deep, thrashing, dark sea he could not see into. Never before had he been this way and England could tell it was no joke. Taking a small step back in his confusion, England had no words to say as America turned his head away from him once more. But he had noticed one thing: that his angel was an angel no more. England then turned away as well as if something had been torn out of him, but this emptiness he replaced with anger and stormed out of the room, shouting, "Fine! I won't ever lift a finger to help you again, you bloody idiot! You're nothing to me!" Good riddance!"

America was once again left with silence to envelop him, but strangely satisfied with himself. He pulled the covers over his head with his good arm and sighed loudly. "It's for the best….he is safe…" he quietly mumbled to himself as he looked at his hand, slowly uncovering his palm that had various scars and scratches. As he looked over it, the scratches made a familiar pattern. He was not surprised by this fact at all, however, as he read them he immediately sat up and began to search for an escape route. America frantically ripped cords and cables, making his way towards the door and bursting it open with a powerful kick. Nurses flocked over to him once more, trying to calm him down as if he had gone mentally insane. He resisted with all his might, shouting one-word phrases and information that seemed irrelevant to anyone at the time. Nevertheless, the country's power was nothing without the approval of its people and the drugs had their effect on his human body. America begged and pleaded them to let him free as his strength was taken from him, but they signaled no sign of approval as the flock of nurses escorted him back to his room. England knew nothing, saw nothing, felt nothing about it, but that was soon to change as the scars made out:

_Enigma 845_


	7. Chapter 7

_Just to clarify, in this story the 2p nations are HUMANS and not affiliated with their corresponding country personifications in any way. The gang characters are just based off of their personalities and appearances because I don't have much imagination to make up my own, plus I thought it would be more interesting. Also to note, they don't know they are countries. In another note, I would love some feedback if you would like the 2ps to continue on with the story, I kind of just dragged them in there, so, if you like/dislike the 2ps involved please let me know, or I might just delete this chapter, I'm still experimenting with the outcome so that's why I've taken so long to update, sorry for the inconvenience_

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England huffed as he angrily made his way back to the meeting, he had probably already missed it for crying out loud! All because of that stupid American git, well it's not like there was anything to accomplish, nothing ever got accomplished. The Brit sighed as he walked up the short steps of the entrance, though he sensed something was different. He stopped right before opening the door of the building and looked at his surroundings. The streets, the air, the atmosphere in general was strangely silent, almost eerie to his surprise. It made him shiver slightly, but he shook it off, reaching to open the door when suddenly he felt a cheery voice behind him speak.

"'Ello, love. I'm afraid you can't go in there as of now"

He whipped around to spot a nerdy looking man about his age. He had very bright blue almost luminous eyes and a grin that stretched from ear to ear. His hair was a light gingery shade that sat atop his head like a muffin, a few strands cutely cupping his chin. A few freckles were sprinkled on his cheeks and aside from those features, he almost looked exactly the same as him, he had a British accent as well. England took this with extreme surprise and stared at him before stuttering out.

"I don't know what you're talking about"

He opened the door and was going to take a step in before he felt the other pull him back by his shirt rather ruthlessly.

"Wh-?!"

The other man kept holding onto his shirt and stared at him with a grin like a corrupted angel.

"I told you, you can't go in there~" he sang. Then he held up something that looked like a cupcake, though he could tell it wasn't an ordinary one. England's eyes widened as he struggled from his grip. Who was this person and what were they up to?!

"A-Are you mad!? Let me go you twat!"

"Mmm...perhaps I am mad~ Now eat it"

The mysterious stranger pushed the cake up to England's lips almost menacingly. He shook his head violently, trying to push him away until the other lost his patience and shoved the cake through his lips, forcing him to eat it. It didn't taste awful, it was actually good, but he couldn't understand what his intentions were. England finally got the strength to push the stranger away and staggered backwards.

"What the bloody hell is wrong with you?!" he exclaimed, staring down at the other who had fallen because of the impact.

"Lots of things, love~"

And it was the last thing he heard him say before a sudden dizziness came to his head. England groaned and fell to his knees, a sickening feeling taking over his stomach, what the hell was in that cupcake?! His eyes felt hazed over and his vision started to blur as he felt himself, falling and falling into a deep abyss of nothingness. Finally, he lay on the ground, unconscious as the stranger loomed over him, giggling.

"Everybody always has room for dessert~

He picked up the unconscious England and quickly ran to an alleyway, as if it was all planned. While running, he took a moment to study his features, it was like falling in love with his own reflection.

"Ah, aren't you a cutie! Maybe I could just give you one..small..k-" But he was cut short when someone snapped his name from the alleyway.

"Ollie! Stop flirtin' with dead corpses, it makes me sick"

The voice came from a well-built man emerging from the shadows. He had a stern but naughty look in his face, wearing shades to hide his fierce eyes. His maroon colored hair had an unusual parting that made a cowlick stick out and he strolled towards Oliver with his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket.

"Aw but he isn't dead _yet"_

"Consider him swmmin' with the fishies, he's not gonna last long, look at 'im" Allen scoffed with a disgusted look. "Once we get rid of this fucking retard, the one that we're actually lookin' for will have ta show up." He turned around and started walking back where he came from, the other struggling to catch up behind him.

"But we're keeping him just for a little while, right?"

"As much as I hate to admit, yeah, if his stupid face doesn't make me want to stab him first, that son of a bitch."

"Allen! Stop that potty mouth talk right now!"

"...I'll stab both of ya in a change of mind" He spit at the ground then turned a corner where there was an old, abandoned shack. "Be sure ta tie 'im up, we don't want any trouble from 'im"

Oliver nodded and skipped merrily into the shack, finding some ropes and tying up the country with a smile.

"Don't worry, I'm sure your prince charming will arrive here any minute~ Until then, sweet dreams~"


End file.
